


room service

by thunderylee



Category: KinKi Kids
Genre: Angst, Canon Universe, Discussion of Rape, Implied underage drinking, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-28
Updated: 2007-01-28
Packaged: 2019-02-07 15:38:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12844248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Tsuyoshi has been getting room service for years, but it would have been much better if Koichi remembered it.





	room service

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck.

It had gotten to the point where Tsuyoshi was expecting it. It was like a tryst, sort of, except that trysts are planned ahead of time and both parties usually remember it the next day. The first couple times Tsuyoshi had felt guilty afterwards, as though he had intentionally taken advantage of his friend; as time went on, he realized that that couldn’t have been further from the truth.

It always started the same way. He would be stuck in yet another hotel far away from his home, working on something or another with his partner Koichi. Whether they were on tour, in town for an interview, or just putting together a new song in a different city, if Koichi went out drinking, Tsuyoshi could count on it.

Koichi didn’t have a drinking problem; Tsuyoshi was sure of that. He had a memory problem. Even sober, he tended to forget things that had happened in the past. Tsuyoshi used to joke that Koichi’s brain automatically reset itself while he was sleeping; he had gotten used to answering “where are we and what are we doing here?” nearly every morning upon his waking.

In the beginning, when they were just starting out, Tsuyoshi would drink with him. It was their way of being friendly since they had more or less been thrown into a unit together and didn’t really know each other at all. The alcohol would loosen their lips and their minds, and Tsuyoshi would find himself talking to Koichi about whatever crossed his path of thought when he normally didn’t speak at all. Koichi, who had never had much of an issue conversing with anybody, would follow along with Tsuyoshi’s ramblings and toss in some of his own. Anyone who happened to be around them would think that they were best friends, when in reality they were just two men who worked together and made with the fanservice.

Fanservice. Tsuyoshi stifled a laugh as the word glittered animatedly in his head. The fans sure loved their fanservice. He couldn’t recall one performance or interview in the early years where Koichi hadn’t tried to kiss him. Tsuyoshi wasn’t much for it, but the fans seemed to love his resistance even more. If only they knew what happened on those long, lonely nights in his hotel room. Hell, if _Koichi_ knew.

Tsuyoshi has taken to calling it Room Service. Not only was it appropriate, but that’s what Koichi had said the very first night it happened. This was back when Tsuyoshi still went out with him, but he had gone up to his room a considerable time before Koichi and was fast asleep when the syncopated rhythm of knocks on his door woke him from his slumber.

“Rooooooooom service,” Koichi sung through the door, followed by a series of giggles.

Begrudgingly, Tsuyoshi dragged himself out of bed and fumbled with the locks, paying no mind to his boxer-clad state as he flung open the door and stared in what he hoped was an intimidating manner through the one eye that was barely slit open. “What do you want?”

Koichi pouted. “I lost my key.”

He always lost his key. Or forgot it. Or forgot where his _room_ was. Or Tsuyoshi’s room was closer. After a couple years, Tsuyoshi stopped asking.

Without saying a word, Tsuyoshi turned and flopped on his bed, leaving the door open and figuring that Koichi would take that as an invitation to sleep in the other bed. The light from the hallway faded into nothing as Koichi closed the door and locked the bolt, but instead of crossing the room to the spare bed, Tsuyoshi found himself underneath a warm body.

“Kochan,” he said slowly. “I’m sleeping here.”

Koichi giggled again and pressed his face into Tsuyoshi’s neck. “Too far,” he mumbled, presumably referring to the other bed, and promptly fell asleep.

The next morning, Tsuyoshi woke up before Koichi and messed up the spare bed to make it look like it had been slept in. When he performed the grueling task of waking Koichi for their appointment, Koichi hadn’t even bothered to ask what he was doing in Tsuyoshi’s room, but it was obvious that he had no recollection of sleeping more or less on top of Tsuyoshi.

That was just the first time. As it was, that night was their last stop on a string of interviews before they actually got to spend a few months at home. Tsuyoshi didn’t put much stock into what had happened; after all, it was better that Koichi show up at _his_ door than someone else’s. Someone else might not have kept his hands to himself, especially with the way Koichi had been nuzzling his neck, and Koichi had been in no state to say no.

Tsuyoshi didn’t think of himself as a queer. If he had to classify himself as anything, it would be asexual. Like amoeba. He thought girls were pretty, but for the most part they tried too hard. It was the same with boys, only in a completely different way. He could wax poetic on the subject for hours, and at one point in the early years he and Koichi had actually gotten into a rather headed (and sober) debate about it.

Koichi loved women. He saw no shame in looking good for them, even if it meant doing traditionally feminine things such as getting his eyebrows waxed or curling his hair. He had no problem with the fanservice because it made the girls happy, but that’s as far as it went in the other direction. He could appreciate another man’s style or demeanor, but it was more out of envy than attraction. And according to him, the reason that he hasn’t had a girlfriend in the entire time Tsuyoshi has known him is because he simply cannot decide on just one. That and he felt that his female fans would think less of him if he was in a relationship, and he was nothing if not a career-oriented man. Besides, he claimed that he was too young to settle down.

Yet it was Tsuyoshi’s bed in which he slept nine times out of ten when they were on the road. Up until the G Album, it had been solely that – sleeping. Sometimes Koichi would snuggle close to him, as though Tsuyoshi were a life-sized teddy bear, but he always fell asleep right away and Tsuyoshi always woke up before him and crawled into the other bed. And Koichi never asked what he was doing there.

The G Album tour was when Koichi started humping in his sleep. All things considered, Tsuyoshi found it highly amusing and wished that Koichi would remember just once so that he could make fun of him. He wasn’t sure what had caused this, well, increase in events; he could only figure that Koichi had gotten hard for some girl at the bar, and for some reason or another he hadn’t approached her. Obviously he would be humping _her_ if he had made an effort; women didn’t easily resist Koichi’s charm, and Tsuyoshi wouldn’t have been surprised if Koichi had just left a girl’s room instead of the bar all of those other times. He claimed that he didn’t like to stick around after sex, preferring to wake up by himself as opposed to the obligation that comes with “the morning after” – uncomfortable small talk, breakfast, plans that won’t be kept.

Apparently, Tsuyoshi was the exception. He was sure that it was because Koichi had no idea he was actually _spending the night_ with him; Koichi probably thought that Tsuyoshi was being a good friend and taking care of him while he was drunk. They never talked about it, but anything was possible since Koichi didn’t remember a thing. For all he knew, he could have gotten sick or passed out at the bar and Tsuyoshi had carried him upstairs and put him to bed. For his own safety, Tsuyoshi let him think what he wanted.

The night that Koichi got off on his leg, though, Tsuyoshi was ready to confront him about it. It wasn’t so much that he was angry or disgusted or even uncomfortable; it was that it _affected_ him in a way that made him wish Koichi was awake. As it was, Tsuyoshi had to detangle himself from Koichi’s tight grip and take care of things in the shower before his body would let him go back to sleep. And he couldn’t explain why he crawled back into his bed with Koichi instead of moving to the other one, but he was pretty sure it had something to do with the way Koichi sighed contently when Tsuyoshi wrapped his arms around him.

By the H Album tour, Tsuyoshi had given up fighting his demons, at least one in particular with red hair and a devilish grin. He found himself looking forward to the nights when Koichi would go out drinking, even going as far as to stay up and wait anxiously for his “room service.” Like clockwork, it never failed, although Koichi started knocking earlier as though he preferred Tsuyoshi to some random chick at the bar. That was the only explanation Tsuyoshi could give as to why Koichi was always worked up, anyway.

On one memorable occasion, Koichi hadn’t fallen asleep right away. Instead, he was very much awake when he pounced on Tsuyoshi and ground against him. Tsuyoshi thought that he might realize the person underneath him did in fact have a cock – and a rather hard one at that – and freak out, but Koichi seemed to welcome the obvious difference and humped him until they both reached completion. Koichi was a lot more vocal when he was awake, moaning incoherencies into Tsuyoshi’s ear which fueled him more than the physical contact. Tsuyoshi didn’t dare make a sound save for some hitched breathing, for fear that Koichi would know that it was _him_ and stop.

That night was the best sleep Tsuyoshi had ever had in his life. He had barely woken up in time to sneak out from under Koichi, although if he were being honest with himself, it was more about his reluctance to leave Koichi’s embrace. Tsuyoshi wasn’t ready to admit that he was in love with him, even if his actions did speak for themselves. He was the sober one, after all.

It was pathetic, but Tsuyoshi would take what he could get. He gradually became braver with each night Koichi appeared at his door, daring to touch him places that would get him punched in the daylight. How could he resist, with Koichi’s moans of encouragement? Koichi was fully awake every time now, and just drunk enough not to remember anything the next morning; Tsuyoshi could tell by the way Koichi stood at the door with lust burning in his eyes. Tsuyoshi would have given anything to see that when he was sober.

During the making of the iD Album, Tsuyoshi threw caution to the wind and kissed him. He was momentarily amused by the immediate thought that this was neither of their first times kissing a man; in fact, their first kisses with _anyone_ had been with each other on the set of _Ningen Shikkaku_ thirteen years ago. It had been nothing like this, however, and Tsuyoshi was pleasantly surprised when Koichi kissed back with a vengeance and started pulling at his clothes.

Tsuyoshi lost his mind a little bit during that very long, very heated kiss, and for the first time in years he didn’t have a detailed description of the events that occurred in his bed late at night. The only thing he could remember with certainty was that that kiss had broken whatever dam had been keeping them at bay, opening the proverbial doors to skin-on-skin touching and, of course, kissing. There wasn’t an inch on Tsuyoshi’s upper body that wasn’t brushed by Koichi’s lips that night, nor were there any obstructions separating their desires. Koichi had wrapped his hand around both of them in a way that led Tsuyoshi to believe that he had done this before, and he had even tongued his way down to Tsuyoshi’s navel before it occurred to Tsuyoshi what he was about to do and he stopped him.

“Tsuyo,” Koichi whined, rolling his eyes at the way Tsuyoshi was grabbing his hair. “I want to taste you.”

It was the first time either of them had spoken during these nights. Tsuyoshi couldn’t seem to find his voice, but he mustered up enough gruff to reply, “Not like this.”

Koichi pouted for a second before sliding up Tsuyoshi’s torso and pressing their bodies together once again. “I like it when you pull my hair like that,” he whispered as he leaned in for a kiss.

Tsuyoshi could still feel his orgasm in every nerve of his body the next morning, but that might have been because Koichi gasped his name when he came. He thought for sure that Koichi would remember _that_ , but he was disappointed yet again when Koichi continued to act like nothing had happened. Tsuyoshi supposed he thought he was just having a lot of wet dreams.

The release of the iD Album brought forth a new wave of interviews and performances, just in time for Christmas. Tsuyoshi was grateful that he didn’t have to sing ‘Love is the Mirage…’ for the time being; hopefully this would all be sorted out by the time they went on tour. Tsuyoshi wasn’t going to pretend that he didn’t think about Koichi the first time he heard that song, or that that was the sole reason he wanted to put it on the album as one of his solos. This had gone too far and he had fallen too hard; he promised himself that he would talk to Koichi after their tenth-year anniversary performance on New Year’s, which was coincidentally Koichi’s birthday. Tsuyoshi hoped that the combination of singing the medley of old songs along with the holiday season might make Koichi more sentimental and less likely to freak out at what he had been doing to Tsuyoshi for the past decade.

Then Christmas came. Neither of them had been raised to celebrate the American holiday, but Koichi was fascinated with Western traditions and insisted that they make the most out of being stuck in a hotel by putting up a tree and exchanging gifts. Decorating the tree was an interesting endeavor in its own, but once it was up (in Tsuyoshi’s room; there had been no discussion about that), Koichi placed a large wrapped package underneath it and grinned like he knew a big secret. It drove Tsuyoshi crazy because Koichi wouldn’t let him open it until Christmas Day. On top of that, Tsuyoshi was wracking his brain to find something appropriate for Koichi – what do you get for the man who has unknowingly stolen your heart? He finally decided on something they had joked about before, figuring that it would be taken as such even if it meant a lot more to Tsuyoshi.

Once Koichi saw the small box with his kanji scribbled on the badly-wrapped paper, waiting was out of the question. It was Christmas Eve, and apparently that was close enough. He bounced excitedly on the floor while insisting that Tsuyoshi open his first, all the while eyeing his present like he didn’t agree with what he was saying one bit.

Tsuyoshi carefully unwrapped his gift and uncharacteristically burst into laughter when he lifted the top and peered inside. “It’s what I’ve always wanted!” he exclaimed in a fake girlish voice, reaching inside to pull the hideous purple turban from its home and place it on his head.

Koichi fell over backwards with the force of his laughter, wiping tears from his eyes. “You _have_ to wear that on New Year’s. It won’t match a thing.”

Tsuyoshi examined himself in the mirror and couldn’t stop himself from grinning. “I will,” he said. “Our manager will hate it.”

“Which was my entire reason in buying it,” Koichi pointed out, catching his breath. “That and you seem to have an odd taste for ugly hats.”

Only slightly offended, Tsuyoshi watched as his reflection smiled back at him. “Thank you,” he said politely.

Shaking his head, Koichi smiled back. “It was nothing. Now, my turn!” He lunged for his box and tore it open before Tsuyoshi had completely turned away from the mirror. He was suddenly filled with fear that his gift might trigger Koichi’s memory and send him running, but if Koichi heard the rapid beating of his heart, he didn’t let on.

As it was, Koichi stared inside the box for a long while before he raised his eyes to meet Tsuyoshi’s expectant stare. Tsuyoshi thought that he saw a flash of understanding in those deep brown irises, but he couldn’t be too sure since they promptly became misty and Koichi hid them with his hand. He cursed, shaking his head, and apologized.

“If you don’t like it, I can get you something else,” Tsuyoshi said quietly.

“No, no,” Koichi replied quickly. “I do like it. A lot. It’s just that… I know we joked about it, but it…” He cursed again. “It’s hard to explain. It’s like we’ve spent all of this time together and we’re not even really friends, and I feel bad about that because it’s my fault as much as yours. This… this tells me that it hasn’t been a complete waste.” He chuckled. “If that makes any sense.”

Tsuyoshi smiled warmly. “It does. That’s what I thought when I bought it.” He took a deep breath. “I’d like to be friends with you.”

Koichi pulled the diamond-encrusted ring from the box and examined the engraving on the inside: “KinKi Kids Forever” in English, followed by the kanji for _Doumoto Kyoudai_. “Where am I supposed to wear this?” he asked quietly. “It would look really weird if I wore it on my ring finger.”

“I sized it for your middle finger,” Tsuyoshi said, “but I can always have it resized. Or I could get you a chain to wear around your neck.”

“A chain would be okay.” Koichi turned the ring around in his hand. “But we should get you one too. Everyone will think I’m the girl if I’m the only one with a ring.”

“You are the girl,” Tsuyoshi teased, earning an empty box to be thrown at his head; it landed on top of the turban. “Besides, you’re the one who said it initially.”

“I know.” Koichi slipped the ring onto his middle finger and examined it. “That’s not too bad. It is a rather nice piece of bling.”

Tsuyoshi snorted at the English word and saw Koichi’s lips turn upwards in amusement. They sat in silence for a moment, Koichi playing with the ring on his finger, until he finally spoke in a barely audible voice. “Thank you. I want to be friends with you too.”

Tsuyoshi couldn’t stop the grin from forming on his face, nor could he keep his heart from warming his entire body.

That night, Koichi dragged Tsuyoshi out with him to a dance club, sans purple turban. They were instantly mobbed by fans, but after about an hour of signing autographs and taking pictures, they were left alone. Koichi chatted up a couple American women who spoke very stuffy Japanese (overseas on business, probably) and obviously had no idea who they were. The women were fascinated when they discovered that Koichi and Tsuyoshi had been a pop duo for almost ten years, and Tsuyoshi was not surprised in the least to learn that they were suckers for the fanservice just like everyone else.

True to his nature, Koichi aimed to please by slinging his arm around Tsuyoshi and saying in his broken English, “We _very_ close. Just this morning, he buy me ring for anniversary. Look!”

The women squealed when Koichi thrust out his hand, turning their eyes from the ring to look dotingly at Tsuyoshi. “You treat him well?” one of them asked. “With as cute as he is, someone else could come along and snatch him at any minute!”

Koichi blushed at the compliment, but Tsuyoshi decided to play along for once and gripped him tightly around the waist. “They can’t steal him if I don’t let go!”

If Koichi was startled by Tsuyoshi’s sudden agreement, he didn’t make it known. Then again, he had already had a few drinks, and it occurred to Tsuyoshi that he ought to be careful or he might get his “room service” right here in the booth in front of everyone.

“Do you dance?” the other woman asked skeptically; obviously she was not falling for their act. Her Japanese was also considerably better than her friend’s. “I want to watch you dance together.”

Her friend’s face lit up and she nodded enthusiastically.

“It takes a better man than me to deny a beautiful woman what she wants,” Koichi said in his sultry voice. “Come on, Tsuyo. Let’s show them how we dance.”

Tsuyoshi felt that this was a Very Bad Idea, but he couldn’t stop Koichi from pulling him out to the crowded dance floor and moving against him. There was enough of that smoky fog in the air that the women couldn’t see them very well, which was probably a good thing since Koichi immediately grabbed him by the waist and pressed their foreheads together. Tsuyoshi was at a loss of what to do with his arms – he was _not_ about to wrap them around Koichi’s neck like he was some girl – so he placed his hands on Koichi’s elbows and tried to maneuver him to move in a way that didn’t look like they were humping each other.

It was the most painful three minutes of Tsuyoshi’s life, in that he actually had to _stop_ Koichi from forgetting that they were in a public place and turning their dance into something erotic. To his knowledge, he hadn’t refused Koichi’s advances once save for the time he’d kept him from going below his waist, and Koichi wasn’t taking it very well. Clearly he was not used to being denied.

“I think I’m going to go back to the hotel,” Tsuyoshi yelled over the beginning of the next song.

Koichi saw the women waving them back to the table, reached for Tsuyoshi’s hand, and hissed, “No, you’re not. Help me out and chat up the hot one’s friend so that I can get the other one back to my room.”

“Kochan -” Tsuyoshi began to protest.

“The worst thing that could happen is that you’ll get laid,” Koichi replied in amusement. “And really, it’s not that bad. I bet she’s really fiesty in bed.”

Tsuyoshi had no choice but to follow along; Koichi was apparently still sober enough to prefer women to Tsuyoshi, and that meant that he would remember if Tsuyoshi left him here. They were friends now, and friends helped each other out. Even if Tsuyoshi didn’t think that the woman in whom Koichi was interested was the least bit attractive.

Upon returning to the booth, the skeptical woman seemed to be satisfied with their dance and eyed Tsuyoshi like he was a juicy steak. Koichi caught this and raised his eyebrows, presumably figuring that this would be easier than he thought. He turned to the giddy woman and asked her to dance in very polite English. She nodded so hard that Tsuyoshi thought she might give herself whiplash, and with a final wink at Tsuyoshi, Koichi led her to the dance floor.

Tsuyoshi was very bad at “chatting up” women. Lucky for him, this one seemed to prefer to do the talking. She told him her name, which he promptly forgot because he couldn’t pronounce it, and she went on to explain how her friend teaches English over here and she was visiting her for the holidays. Two drinks later, she was still rambling in perfectly comprehensible Japanese despite being very obviously drunk.

Koichi and the other woman were nowhere to be found, and this woman seemed to notice that at the same time Tsuyoshi did. “Run off, have they?” she said in an amused tone. “She does have a weakness for redheads. What do you say we do the same?”

In no way, shape, or form did Tsuyoshi want to have sex with this woman. He was more worried about Koichi than at the prospect of taking this woman back to his room, which is what she was definitely hinting at. He bowed his head politely and said, “I’ll get you a cab.”

Her smile fell and the skeptical look returned. “You really are together, with him, aren’t you?” she said in such an accusing way that Tsuyoshi knew the truth showed in his reaction. “You’re jealous that he’s with her and not you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied, trying to sound offended. “I am simply not into casual affairs.”

“Of course,” she said bitterly. “Then it wouldn’t interest you to know that my friend is very much married and happens to enjoy the idea of her husband with another man, and that she probably took him home with the intention of watching them have sex together?”

Tsuyoshi’s eyes went wide, and before he knew it he had stood up from the table. “Where does she live?”

The woman’s lips crept up in an amused smirk. “I rest my case.”

“No,” Tsuyoshi said a little more defensively than he would have liked. “You don’t understand. Koichi is straight. Once he finds out what’s going on, he will…” He trailed off, inwardly finishing his sentence: _Go along with it, just like he has for the past ten years._

Tsuyoshi must have been in a right state, because the woman immediately switched gears and grabbed his arm as he started to turn away. “I lied, okay? I’m sorry. She’s not married; she doesn’t even have a boyfriend. I thought that you two were together, but apparently he doesn’t even know how you feel. I am so sorry. I know how much that hurts.”

Staring at her as though he just saw her for the first time, he allowed her to lower him back to the booth and soothingly push the hair out of his eyes. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m leaving tomorrow and you’ll never see me again. And I can keep a secret.”

Tsuyoshi was drunk enough to believe her, and before he knew it the words were flowing from his mouth like water over a cliff. He told her everything from the very first night Koichi showed up at his room ten years ago to this morning when they had exchanged gifts. He told her about his plans to come clean on New Year’s and possibly throw away everything they had worked for on the sheer hope that Koichi would believe him and take a chance on something real. He tried to describe how he felt when they were together, searching his vocabulary for something appropriate and finally settling on a simple “I’m in love with him.”

The woman looked positively heartbroken at Tsuyoshi’s confession. She held him much like a mother would hold her son and said quietly, “She texted me awhile after she left with the room number of the hotel he took her to. You know, just in case. Do you want it?”

“I know his room number,” Tsuyoshi declined dejectedly.

She checked her phone anyway and read the message, which was the name of the hotel followed by “192.”

“192?” Tsuyoshi repeated. “That’s _my_ room.”

She paused. “Then it will be much easier to explain why you barged in uninvited, won’t it? In fact…” Her eyes lit up and the grinned like she was plotting a grand scheme. “What do you say we fight fire with fire?”

Twenty minutes later, the door of Tsuyoshi’s room was flung open by the force of two people leaning against it as the key was turned, almost falling into the room and stumbling into every wall and surface they could manage as they pretended to grope and kiss each other. Out of the corner of his eye, Tsuyoshi caught a glimpse of Koichi and the other woman snuggled under the covers on _his_ bed, presumably sleeping through the racket. Without a second thought, Tsuyoshi flung his woman onto the bed right next to them and pressed against her, throwing aside thoughts that something was missing and that “something” was a foot to the left.

Tsuyoshi reached his arm over to Koichi’s bare back and pinched a piece of his shoulder. With a yelp, Koichi turned around and stared in disbelief at the sight of Tsuyoshi on top of a woman, both tugging at each other’s clothes.

“Get out,” Tsuyoshi hissed harshly. “What are you doing in my room anyway?”

“I must have grabbed your key by mistake,” Koichi said sleepily, rubbing his head and seeming to not notice Tsuyoshi’s tone. “What’s going on?”

“What’s going on is that I’m trying to get mine and you’re in my bed,” Tsuyoshi snapped. “Get out.”

“I can’t,” Koichi said in a pitiful voice. “She won’t move.”

“What do you mean she won’t move?” the woman underneath Tsuyoshi cried out in worry, abandoning her efforts to peer over Koichi at her friend.

“I mean that she passed out the moment we got here,” Koichi said calmly. “I’m sure she’s fine, just sleeping. I stayed with her to make sure she’s okay and help her get home when she wakes up. I didn’t think you’d mind.” He stared hard at Tsuyoshi. “I’m sorry. You can use my room if you find my key; it’s probably in here somewhere.”

Tsuyoshi instantly felt horrible and hung his head in shame, unintentionally resting his forehead on his woman’s shoulder. “I think you should go,” he whispered to her, quiet enough so that Koichi couldn’t hear.

“She’s okay?” she said faintly, closing her eyes and leaning her head back on the pillow.

“She’s fine,” Koichi repeated assuredly. “Just sleeping.”

“Sleep,” the woman mumbled. “Sleep is good.”

Tsuyoshi crawled off of her and covered her up with the blanket, watching her turn on her side and fall asleep.

“I am so sorry,” Koichi whispered as Tsuyoshi crossed the room to get into the other bed. “I thought that at least one of us would get laid tonight.”

“Wasn’t meant to be, I guess,” Tsuyoshi replied a lot more bitterly than he really was; inwardly, he was ecstatic.

“You know,” Koichi said slowly, “I probably shouldn’t stay here. If they wake up in the morning with me between them, who knows what they’ll think happened.”

“Not everyone has as bad of a memory as you,” Tsuyoshi said before he thought about it. Once he realized what he had said, his eyes went wide and he was grateful that he was facing the opposite direction from Koichi.

He heard the rustling of sheets in the other bed and footsteps on the floor. “Move over,” he ordered, poking Tsuyoshi in the back.

“Find your key and go to your own room,” Tsuyoshi replied. He was not in the mood for this, not tonight. Not after everything he had admitted to himself and the woman sleeping in the next bed.

“I don’t want to get dressed,” Koichi protested, as though that were a perfectly acceptable reason. “Come on, move over.”

He seemed sober enough, Tsuyoshi thought. Perhaps he had slept it off in the time it took Tsuyoshi to come back to the room. He muttered a grunt of annoyance but scooted over to the edge of the bed.

The mattress dipped under Koichi’s weight, and the blankets inadvertently covered Tsuyoshi’s back as Koichi pulled them up to cover himself. There was a moment of silence before Koichi spoke. “Did you do it?”

“Do what?” Tsuyoshi mumbled.

“Drug them.”

Tsuyoshi flipped over on his other side to face Koichi with what he was sure was a shocked expression. “What? No! Did you?”

Koichi shook his head and looked helplessly at Tsuyoshi as he sighed into his pillow. “Of course not. But they were very obviously drugged, and after we first sat with them.”

“Maybe someone slipped something into their drinks while we were dancing,” Tsuyoshi suggested. “I didn’t see anyone, but -”

“Yeah, neither did I.” Koichi frowned. “I kind of lied earlier. She didn’t fall asleep right when we got up here, but I could tell that something wasn’t right with her. I couldn’t, you know, let her do anything to me while she was like that.”

“Her friend seemed fine,” Tsuyoshi said, ignoring the voice in his head that was screaming at him about irony.

“She didn’t have nearly as much to drink,” Koichi countered. “Not that I was paying attention, but my girl was downing them left and right. I think some jerk saw a couple of _gaijin_ and decided to embarrass them.”

“Or they wanted to frame us,” Tsuyoshi suggested, suddenly enveloped in the mystery. “But who would do that to us?”

“You’ve been watching too many doramas,” Koichi said with a chuckle. “I don’t think it had anything to do with us at all. They probably saw us dance and figured we were gay or something. Or maybe they meant to get us too. Do you feel drugged?”

“Not particularly,” Tsuyoshi replied honestly. “You?”

“My head is a little cloudy,” Koichi admitted. “But I usually get that way after a couple drinks.”

“Kochan,” Tsuyoshi said slowly. It was now or never. “Do you know what happens when you drink?”

“Which time?” Koichi asked with a yawn. “I always wake up in your bed, so I couldn’t have done anything entirely stupid.” His eyes fluttered open and he smiled. “Thanks for that, by the way. I’m not sure how you do it, but I wake up feeling great every time.”

Tsuyoshi’s heart sank. He wanted more than anything to tell Koichi the truth right then, but something told him that Koichi was still too intoxicated to remember it. That “something” was currently trailing up his inner thigh and prying his legs apart. Tsuyoshi looked at him helplessly, seeing the familiar lust appear in his eyes as his profile moved closer. “Kochan, I -”

Koichi silenced him with a kiss. Tsuyoshi couldn’t fight him anymore and spread his legs, whimpering when Koichi’s fingers brushed against his groin, making him completely hard in a split-second. The next thing he knew, he was on his back with Koichi directly on top of him, and he became very aware of the fact that Koichi was completely nude.

Tsuyoshi’s earlier confession to the woman returned to the forefront of his mind, and they played a large part in how heatedly he returned Koichi’s advances. There were no lines or boundaries between them now, and when Koichi lowered his head past Tsuyoshi’s waistline, he let him.

Koichi’s mouth was nothing short of heaven; every blowjob Tsuyoshi had ever received before paled in comparison. He felt every bud of Koichi’s tongue on his impossibly hard cock as it was pushed in and out of soft lips, not that deep but tight enough to suffice. Tsuyoshi involuntarily twisted his fingers in Koichi’s hair and shuddered when Koichi groaned around him. It was almost enough to make him come, at least until Koichi sat up and hovered his lower half over Tsuyoshi’s erection.

“No,” Tsuyoshi gasped, swearing under his breath at what he was passing up. “Kochan, no. It will hurt.”

Koichi pouted and leaned down to kiss Tsuyoshi chastely on the lips. “Then make it not hurt.”

Tsuyoshi was confused until Koichi grabbed one of his hands and sucked three of his fingers into his mouth, coating them generously with saliva. Try as he might, Tsuyoshi couldn’t resist as Koichi pushed his hand between his legs and wriggled around at the contact.

“Please, Tsuyo.” Koichi’s breath was hot on Tsuyoshi’s ear. “I want you so bad. Make it feel good.”

Wild horses could not have kept Tsuyoshi from pressing his forefinger into that tight hole. Koichi’s breath hitched, but he moved back against the intrusion and rotated his hips in a circle to get more depth. At one point, Tsuyoshi bent his finger at the knuckle much like he would do to a woman and Koichi’s body shuddered. He did it again and felt Koichi open up to him enough to insert a second finger. Crooking both of them and rubbing against a particularly spongy spot inside of him, Koichi lost his balance and fell flat on top of Tsuyoshi, grabbing him around the shoulders and pushing back against the fingers that were causing him such unexplainable pleasure.

“You have no idea how amazing this feels,” Koichi said in a strained voice, looking up through hooded lids to see Tsuyoshi watching him intently. “I am physically aching for you. Please, Tsuyo. I don’t think it will hurt now.”

Just in case, Tsuyoshi used a third finger and tried to push them apart in an attempt to spread Koichi open wider. The voice in the back of his mind kept telling him that if he went through with this, Koichi would definitely remember it tomorrow in one form or another, but there was no way he could deny his love something he wanted so badly. He withdrew his fingers, his heart breaking at the whine Koichi emitted. Tsuyoshi never wanted to hear that whine again, but before he could figure out how exactly he was supposed to do this, Koichi had taken matters into his own hands; literally, by spitting on them and stroking Tsuyoshi just long enough to lubricate the head before impaling himself on him.

Tsuyoshi could tell from Koichi’s face that it hurt, and it pained him to see. But Koichi was nothing if not determined, albeit a bit stubborn, and lifted himself up and down slowly until his body got used to Tsuyoshi and it was easier to move. Tsuyoshi had a feeling that it wasn’t just saliva helping it along, but Koichi’s drastic change in facial expression when he sank all the way down made those thoughts fly out of Tsuyoshi’s brain. Koichi braced himself with his arms and began riding Tsuyoshi, staring hard into Tsuyoshi’s eyes as his face contorted, presumably in concentration from trying to aim for that spot Tsuyoshi had found earlier. The only difference now was the intense squeezing of Tsuyoshi’s cock as he hit it, making it increasingly difficult to keep his eyes on Koichi when they wanted to roll back into his head.

Koichi’s backwards thrusting got faster as Tsuyoshi’s will to hold out became shorter; he didn’t even notice Koichi balance himself on one arm and use the other to reach between them and stroke himself. When Tsuyoshi caught sight of that, it was all over. His orgasm crashed over him and he came with a strangled moan, tightening his hold on Koichi’s hips and thrusting deep inside of him. This must have set off Koichi, for squirts of hot liquid shot onto Tsuyoshi’s chest and Koichi collapsed on top of him with a grunt. “I love you,” he mumbled as he fell asleep.

Tsuyoshi had enough sense to clean them up before he joined Koichi in slumber (he hadn’t hurt him as much as he thought), but there was nothing in this world that would have kept him from sleeping here with Koichi. The feeling seemed to be mutual, since Koichi reached out for him in his sleep and crawled on top of him. Tsuyoshi wrapped his arms tightly around Koichi, rested his face against his hair, and succumbed to a deep sleep that was even better than before.

A few hours later, Tsuyoshi reluctantly withdrew from the warm embrace, found Koichi’s key in the desk drawer next to an unopened Bible, and stumbled across the hall to sleep in the other room. As much as he didn’t want to be separated from Koichi, he knew that it was for the best.

When he woke up, it took a moment for the events of last night to come back to him, and once they had, he hopped out of bed, threw on some of Koichi’s clothes, and ran across the hall to his room. The women and Koichi were gone. The clerk at the front desk swore up and down that he hadn’t checked out, but he wasn’t in either of their rooms and he wasn’t answering his cell.

Tsuyoshi was suddenly paralyzed with fear. _He remembered_. It wasn’t that far of a stretch, especially since parts of him were probably still sore from last night’s activities. As much as he didn’t want to do it, Tsuyoshi picked up his phone to dial his manager and almost jumped when the very person called him first.

“Tsuyoshi-kun,” he said. “We have a situation down at the station. How fast can you get here?”

Tsuyoshi’s mind raced as he promptly ended the call and raced for the front desk. An excruciatingly long cab ride later, he met up with his manager outside of the local police station. “What’s going on?” he demanded.

“These two women claimed Koichi-kun drugged them and took advantage of them. They woke up in his hotel room and called the police. There are witnesses who saw one of the women leave the club with him while the other one was talking to you, and then the other one checked her phone and left. The police think that the first woman called or texted her friend for help, and she went to her not knowing that she was drugged as well. Neither of the women nor Koichi remember a thing.”

“That’s not how it happened,” Tsuyoshi said frantically.

“That’s not all,” his manager went on, lowering his voice and ignoring Tsuyoshi’s protest. “Koichi was still half asleep when he was brought in, and apparently his cell mate decided to have a little ‘fun’ with him, because he was in some serious pain when he woke up. The cell mate denies it, but they all do, and there’s nothing the cops can do about it. The sooner we get him out of here, the better. Do you remember anything about last night?”

Tsuyoshi bit his lip. He couldn’t tell the truth without, well, telling the truth. He knew that Koichi’s cell mate hadn’t touched him; that pain had been caused by _him_. He tried to push that thought to the back of his mind and concentrate on the complicated task at hand. “I remember everything,” he said finally. “And Koichi didn’t drug anyone.”

His manager sighed. “They were tested, Tsuyoshi-kun. They both came up positive for the slow-acting date rape drug.”

“That may be so,” Tsuyoshi persisted, “but we didn’t give it to them. We were talking with them for awhile, and then we – that is, Koichi and I – went to dance for a song, and when we came back we noticed they were acting differently. We thought it best to take them up to our room in case the real culprit was waiting until we left.”

“The police found semen in one of the beds,” his manager said sternly. “It was Koichi’s, and don’t try to tell me that he felt the need to toss one off while in the same room as two drugged women.”

“ _He didn’t drug them_ ,” Tsuyoshi said firmly. “He didn’t rape them, and he didn’t ‘toss one off.’ The girls passed out as soon as we brought them into the room. One of them came up with him; the other with me. Koichi wanted to stay in the room with them in case they woke up and didn’t know where they were. He slept in one bed, they slept in the other. Their clothes remained on -”

“Koichi was as naked as the day he was born when they arrested him,” his manager interrupted him. “If he were a modest man, he might have been embarrassed.”

“Everyone and their mother knows that Koichi sleeps that way,” Tsuyoshi argued. “I was referring to the women’s clothes. When I left that room, they were both completely dressed and sleeping peacefully in the same bed. Would you rather we had left them to be raped for real?”

Tsuyoshi’s manager examined his extremely pissed-off expression and nodded. “You know what? I believe you. When _you_ left the room, everything was fine -”

“ _Koichi didn’t do anything after I left_!” Tsuyoshi screamed, earning the attention of just about everyone in the station. “He sleeps very deeply, and if he didn’t wake up until after he got here, I can guarantee that he hadn’t woken up before then.”

“What about the semen?” his manager hissed.

Tsuyoshi set his jaw straight and spoke as quietly as he could. “That happened while I was still there. He won’t remember it, but if you still don’t believe me, why don’t you test the semen in his ass?”

His manager’s jaw dropped and he regarded Tsuyoshi as one might regard a ticking time bomb. “I don’t think that will be necessary. We don’t need to make this a bigger spectacle than it already is.” He paused. “The women are being given rape kits as we speak. If you are telling the truth and nothing shows up, they’ve agreed to drop the charges. They don’t really think Koichi did anything, but they were very scared to wake up in an unfamiliar room with a strange man and remember _nothing_.”

“I can imagine,” said Tsuyoshi. “But they didn’t have to cry rape.”

“They didn’t; that was the officer’s hunch. It was the only thing that made sense to anyone. And the fact that Koichi didn’t remember _anything_ made matters worse. They assumed he was lying.”

Tsuyoshi held his head in his hands as he paced around the room awaiting the verdict. It seemed like hours before the lab called and confirmed that the women had not been sexually violated.

“I guess you two really were playing good samaritans,” the cop said to Tsuyoshi upon hanging up the phone. “Pity you didn’t find out who really drugged them.”

“Are you going to release Koichi now?” Tsuyoshi asked.

The cop nodded and motioned for someone to go into the prison area. He returned with Koichi, who was wearing jail scrubs and walking very uncomfortably. He looked as though he had been crying and refused to meet Tsuyoshi’s eyes. _He’s ashamed_ , Tsuyoshi thought. He slung an arm around Koichi’s waist and helped him out of the station.

“We’re _very_ lucky the media didn’t catch wind of this,” their manager hollered after them. “Any of it,” he added for Tsuyoshi’s benefit.

Once back at the hotel, Koichi pushed Tsuyoshi away and locked himself in his room for two entire days. He wouldn’t answer the door or his phone, and their manager was harping on Tsuyoshi to “do something already!” because New Year’s was just a few days away and they needed to rehearse their medley. Tsuyoshi tried everything he could think of to get Koichi to talk to him, and when all else failed, he used Koichi’s key and cracked open the door until the deadbolt caught

“Kochan,” he said quietly. “I know you can hear me. Let me in; I need to tell you something important.”

His ears were met with a colorful combination of swear words, and he waited until Koichi was done before going on. “You didn’t touch those girls, Kochan. I was there.”

“I know I didn’t touch those girls,” Koichi spat back. “I don’t care about that. I care about what happened to me while I waited for those idiots to realize that I didn’t touch those girls.”

Tsuyoshi sighed. _Good-bye, Kochan_. “That didn’t happen to you in prison. It happened the night before.”

“What are you talking about?” Koichi demanded. “I seriously doubt either of those women have a penis.”

“No, but I do.”

There was a long pause before Tsuyoshi heard a noise inside the room. The next thing he knew, the door was slammed in his face, but only long enough for Koichi to release the deadbolt. He grabbed Tsuyoshi by the collar and threw him up against the wall, slamming the door behind him and looked fiercely into his eyes. “What are you trying to say?” he demanded, using the worst form of “you” in the Japanese language.

Tsuyoshi swallowed forcibly; Koichi had a rather tight grip on his neck. “It was me.”

Koichi loosened his hold on Tsuyoshi and turned away, his face burning crimson. He looked over his shoulder with the nastiest glare Tsuyoshi had ever seen, and Tsuyoshi could do nothing but brace himself as Koichi’s fist met his face. “You’re sick,” he said angrily as Tsuyoshi slumped to the floor and held his throbbing eye. “You doing that to me is so much worse than if I had touched those girls. I suppose now you’re going to try and tell me that I wanted it.”

Tsuyoshi said nothing.

Koichi swore again. “If you want to be a fag, go for it. Just don’t live in your fantasies about me. I am not like that and I will never be like that, and you are sick for taking advantage of me when I’m drunk. How many times have I woken up in your room in the past ten years, not remembering a _thing_ but assuming that everything was okay because I trusted you and _you_ would never do anything bad to me? What else have you made me do, Tsuyoshi? You know what – I don’t even want to know. You’re _sick_. Get out of my room. After the New Year, I never want to see you again.”

Tears burned in his eyes, but Tsuyoshi struggled to fight them back as he stood up from the floor and blindly made his way to the door. This was it; they were done. As a unit and as friends. New Year’s Eve would be KinKi Kids’ final performance.

Tsuyoshi closed the door just in time; Koichi started screaming like a maniac and breaking things. Tsuyoshi rushed across the hall and locked his door in case Koichi felt the need to break something human. His eye hurt something fierce, but not nearly as bad as his insides ached. He felt guilty for not telling Koichi about his little habit before and angry at himself for not insisting on it now.

Ten minutes later, his manager called him to say that Koichi had scheduled a rehearsal for the next day. And since Tsuyoshi had managed to trip on his own two feet and bust his eye on the corner of the desk, would he please show up early so that the makeup artists might be able to conceal it?

The next five days were the most awkward days of Tsuyoshi’s life, and they seemed to stretch on forever. He found himself looking forward to the New Year if only so that he didn’t have to be reminded of his guilt every time he looked at Koichi. Koichi refused to return his stare or even acknowledge him, and he had changed the dance routine at the last minute to keep them almost half a stage apart. His eyes rested upon Tsuyoshi for a fraction of a second when he showed up for dress rehearsal in the purple turban, but it wasn’t long enough for Tsuyoshi to get any kind of reading. And of course Koichi no longer wore the ring.

Tsuyoshi poured his heart into the midnight performance, knowing it would be the last time. He noticed Koichi dragging a bit on the vocals, but overall it was a decent farewell medley. Takki and Tsubasa, who had sung one of the songs with them, waited for them offstage and tried to get them to go out for Koichi’s birthday. Koichi shrugged them off and headed for the dressing room, presumably intending to go straight to the hotel from there.

“What’s up his ass?” Takki asked quizzically. “It’s not like Kochan to pass up free drinks.”

Tsuyoshi cringed at the choice of words. “Something happened and we’re over.”

“What?” Takki and Tsubasa exclaimed in unison, both staring at Tsuyoshi in disbelief.

Tsuyoshi shook his head. If Koichi hadn’t told them, Tsuyoshi wasn’t about to. “We decided that ten years is long enough. We’re both moving on to do solo work. We haven’t announced it officially yet, so don’t go telling everyone.” He was surprised at how easy it was to lie.

“No wonder he’s so sad,” said Tsubasa. “He really loved working with you. He just told me the other day that he wished you two were closer, like me and Hide-kun are. I can’t imagine what would make him agree with such a drastic decision.”

“It was his idea,” Tsuyoshi said honestly.

Tsubasa shook his head. “Best of luck to you both, then.” He and Takki bowed and left Tsuyoshi standing there by himself. He stood for a long while, watching people come and go as the festivities dwindled down. The show had long since ended, and the last of the props were being packed up when Tsuyoshi finally found himself and walked towards the dressing room.

“I thought you’d never come.”

Tsuyoshi stopped short at the sight of Koichi sitting cross-legged on the couch, holding a few pieces of paper. His eyes were puffy and his nose was red; he had obviously been crying. “What do you have there?” Tsuyoshi asked warily, expecting Koichi to hit him again. And while he had thought about writing a letter to explain himself, he hadn’t gotten around to it.

“One of the women we met at the club that night – you know, the ones I went to jail for – wrote me.” Koichi sniffled and forced his eyes open wide to stop the tears. “I don’t know how it got here, but it was sitting here on the makeup table when I came back. I’ve spent the past three hours staring at it and trying to think of how I should react.”

Tsuyoshi chanced a step closer. “May I read it?”

Nodding, Koichi held out the papers. They were covered with very basic kanji, three pages front and back, and the very first page read: “Dear Koichi-san. Please forgive my friend and me for the misunderstanding on Christmas Day. It was not either of our intentions to blame you for anything; do believe me when I say that the police had their own theories and tried everything to get us to press charges. At any rate, I hope you are well now, and that your friend is well too. In fact, I am writing you because I had a pleasant chat with your friend before the drugs kicked in, and I can’t think of a better way to make everything up to you than to tell you what we discussed. If anything, it should be a rather interesting birthday present…”

Tsuyoshi scanned the rest of the letter, his hand shaking as he struggled to see if the woman had embellished at all. She hadn’t; the story was relayed just as Tsuyoshi had told it to her. From the very first night to Christmas morning, it was all completely true. It ended with: “While I realize my opinion means nothing, I hope you will take a moment to think about what it means that you kept going back to him time after time. Obviously some part of you yearns for him the way all of him yearns for you. You may think of yourself as ‘straight’, but know that true love knows no gender. If you want proof of this, kiss him – when you’re sober.”

Tsuyoshi handed the letter back to Koichi and stood against the wall with his hands in his pockets, waiting for Koichi to say something.

After a moment of silence, he did. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Tsuyoshi snorted. “Would you have believed me?”

“Before last week, yes,” Koichi replied. “I still don’t understand how I could have wanted… _that_ – ” he cringed noticeably “- but given the long line of events in this letter, it’s entirely possible. Is it all true? Every last word?”

“Every last word,” Tsuyoshi confirmed.

Koichi smiled slightly and looked at the floor. “Even the part where you stopped me from, um, doing stuff?”

“Especially that part.”

Koichi shook his head. “I can’t believe it. I really can’t. But it must be true, right? Why else would you… I can’t imagine that you did it against my will. I just… I wish you would have told me before it came to that.”

“I’m sorry,” Tsuyoshi said earnestly. “I really am. I’m the most sorry that I hurt you. I felt so bad when I saw you try to walk out of the cell -”

Koichi waved his hand. “What’s done is done; the past is the past. It’s a New Year, right? New beginnings. Let’s start over.”

Raising an eyebrow, Tsuyoshi peered at him. “My name is Tsuyoshi and I love you?”

Koichi laughed uncomfortably and wiped his eyes. “This is completely new to me, okay? I never even thought about you like that before… but she’s right, obviously some part of me, um, wants it. So come over here and let’s see if we can get that part to come out while I’m sober.”

“What?” Tsuyoshi replied, dazed.

“ _Kiss me_ , Tsuyo,” Koichi said exasperatedly, rolling his eyes. He pointed at the letter. “Here, you even have a written invitation.”

Tsuyoshi walked towards the couch like he was on autopilot, fully aware that Koichi looked like he was ready to bolt. “You’re freaked out,” he said needlessly.

“Uh, yeah.” Koichi nodded frantically. “Just do it and get it over with. Maybe it will be like ripping off a band-aid.”

“I’d like to think I’m a better kisser than that,” Tsuyoshi teased.

“I guess I’ll let you know.”

Tsuyoshi sat on the next cushion and glanced over at Koichi. “I never initiated it, you know. It’s not my style.”

“Initiate it _now_ ,” said Koichi, shaking his legs and staring at the ceiling. “Before I lose my nerve.”

“Maybe it will help if you close your eyes,” Tsuyoshi suggested.

Koichi squinted his eyes shut and tightened his grip on his knees.

Tsuyoshi eyed him. “Turn towards me a little bit.”

Koichi made a ninety-degree turn with one hop. He was biting his lip and looked more nervous than Tsuyoshi had ever seen him before. He got on his knees and leaned towards him, letting their foreheads touch for some sort of familiarity – they had done this part before, after all – and Koichi jumped at the contact. When Tsuyoshi didn’t kiss him right away, he calmed down and breathed forcibly as Tsuyoshi traced his hairline with his forehead and ended up at his jaw. He pressed his lips to the warm skin, ready to catch Koichi when he jumped again, letting his arms linger around his shoulders while Koichi’s slumped to the side.

“Is this your form of torture?” Koichi breathed. “Whatever you want to know, I’ll tell you.”

Tsuyoshi didn’t reply as he kissed Koichi’s jaw line up to his ear and down around his neck. Koichi exhaled sharply and clutched his knees again, visibly shaking. He swore under his breath. “Do it, Tsuyo.”

Holding Koichi firmly by the shoulders, Tsuyoshi tilted his head to kiss along Koichi’s throat and up towards his chin, where Koichi met him halfway and gasped when their lips touched. Tsuyoshi didn’t dare move; it was up to Koichi whether to proceed or not. After a second, Koichi pulled back only to kiss him again, and again, and _again_ , finally darting his tongue out far enough to run along Tsuyoshi’s bottom lip.

Tsuyoshi shivered. “Now who’s torturing who?” he mumbled against Koichi’s lips.

“Shut up. I’m trying to get you to put your tongue in my mouth,” said Koichi. “I must have been pretty damn persistent to get past this barricade. Too bad for you, you might have to do a little of the work when I’m sober.”

Tsuyoshi smiled and gladly deepened the kiss, eliciting a low groan from Koichi that sounded a million times better than all the drunken moans he’d heard before. He didn’t even realize he had lowered Koichi to the couch and settled on top of him until Koichi pulled away long enough to say, “Go slow, okay? It’s the first time for me, at least from what I can remember.”

“I’m not doing that here,” said Tsuyoshi firmly, turning his head to kiss Koichi’s neck again. “In fact, we need to get out of here before someone catches us.”

“I could honestly care less,” said Koichi, making no effort to move. “If we’ve been doing this for the past ten years, it’s obviously something real, and everyone who thinks it’s wrong can kiss my ass.”

“Be that as it may,” said Tsuyoshi, hoisting himself up, “I’d rather not have any interruptions while I’m trying to work. Let’s go to your room for once.”

It took entirely too long to get back to the hotel, but once Tsuyoshi crossed the threshold of Koichi’s room, he slammed the door behind them and took Koichi into his arms. Kissing passionately and a bit sloppily, they stumbled over to the bed and fell on it, Tsuyoshi landing directly on top of Koichi.

“Is that a banana in your pants or are you just happy to see me?” Koichi asked with his trademark grin.

“You know, I think I liked you better drunk,” Tsuyoshi teased, taking the opportunity to run his hands up the sides of Koichi’s chest, under his shirt. “Or maybe not,” he added hastily as he saw Koichi’s reaction to his touch. “You like that?”

Koichi growled and grabbed Tsuyoshi by the hair, pulling him in for another kiss. Tsuyoshi gasped into Koichi’s mouth and ground against him, hearing another one of those delicious groans as Koichi pushed back. It was quite different being the one in charge, but Tsuyoshi figured that he could get used to it.

Maybe after another ten years.


End file.
